A Little Alone Time
by black-rose495
Summary: Eleanor and Alistair are engaged, but the Grand Cleric is making their lives very difficult, so Zevran comes up with a plan to help them relieve some of their tension. NSFW, PWP One-shot set in the Noble Blood universe, but can be read alone as well and still make sense.


_This one-shot is set at the start of the Epilogue of Noble Blood and tells the tale of one of Eleanor and Alistair's attempts to have some private time. If anyone has anything they'd like to see happen, feel free to suggest it and if I like it, I'll roll with it. Thanks :) _

* * *

It was getting ridiculous. The Grand Cleric had been there for just over a week and she had seen more of the old crone in that time than she had her fiancée. Ever since they had made their engagement public, the old woman had made it her life's mission to keep her and Alistair apart.

"It has to stop," she said, taking another swig of brandy. The rogue opposite her simply grinned and motioned for her to keep drinking. She happily obliged, finishing her glass and holding it out for the rogue to refill. "I swear she thinks that we're gonna…jump each other's bones and rip each other's clothes off just by being in the same room! I don't think she realises that the more she does this, the more likely that is to happen!" Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realised that Zevran found that image extremely funny, or enticing, given the amount he was laughing. But her mind was slower than her mouth, especially fuelled with alcohol. "Maker, the things I'd do to him…I just wanna tear his clothes off and eat him up. Literally!"

Zevran leaned forward, intrigued. "Go on," he grinned.

Eleanor realised who she was talking to and flushed bright red. She clapped a hand over her mouth, embarrassed at what had nearly tumbled out, and shook her head wildly. She'd nearly told him about the time in the throne room where she had fantasised about her and Alistair thoroughly defiling the royal thrones. Or the time she had caught herself daydreaming in the study, remembering all the times Alistair had 'distracted' her by bending her over her desk and pounding her, completely ruining the pile of paperwork she had been working on.

Zevran pouted, disappointed by her silence. Judging by her flush, whatever thoughts she was having, they were devilishly good indeed. "Shame," he said casually, "I could help you, if you like."

Eleanor eyed him curiously. "How?" she asked slowly.

"Easy," he said, "we remove the object in your way."

The warrior's hand flew to her mouth in shock. "You're not saying that we – we can't _kill _someone just to have sex! Especially not her! She's the only one who can marry Alistair and me, since it's a royal wedding."

The elf laughed heartily, "No my dear, you misunderstand me. I said remove, not kill. Not everything is innuendo for murder you know." Eleanor raised an eyebrow at him, "Okay, usually it is. Look, all I'm suggesting is you remove the 'object' for, say, a few hours. Long enough for you to have your fun, but short enough that she doesn't get too suspicious, yes?"

Eleanor feigned indecision for a few moments, not wanting to seem too eager. Even in her drunken state she knew an good opportunity when one arose. Eventually, she said, "What do I need to do?"

* * *

She was so nervous. _What if it doesn't work? This had better work. He promised me it would work. _

"Ahh, your highness, eager to get started I see." The old woman's voice interrupted her thoughts. Eleanor smiled as convincingly as she could at the woman, greeting her as cordially as she could manage. "I believe the King is already inside waiting for us. Shall we?" she asked, gesturing to the door. Eleanor opened it for her and followed her inside, looking behind her as if expecting to see Zevran behind her in the shadows.

As predicted, Alistair was already inside. He rose from his seat as they entered the room, the Grand Cleric gesturing dismissively at him. "Nonsense boy, sit down." He did as instructed, sitting opposite Eleanor. She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat, anxious to close the distance between the two of them. They had only recently begun making up for lost time after defeating the Archdemon before the Grand Cleric had announced that she would be staying with them on the run up to the royal wedding. This of course meant that is was strict Chantry rules now, which meant no more pre-marital sex for them, much to their displeasure.

"You look beautiful today," said Alistair awkwardly, very aware of the third person in the room.

"Thank you," replied Eleanor, grooming herself and removing non-existent dirt from her clothing.

"Is it new?" he asked, indicating to her dress.

Eleanor looked down, as if not realising what she was wearing. "Oh this," she said, "Yes. I don't own any dresses anymore, so Leliana made a point of buying as many as po – "

"If I might interrupt," interjected the Grand Cleric. "We have more pressing matters to address than your wardrobe. Now – "

The door to the study flew open with a bang, a panicked Templar in the door way. "Your Grace, sorry to interrupt, but we need to get you out of here _right now!_"

"What are you talking about boy?" she asked, puzzled.

Instead of answering, the Templar began ushering her out of the study and towards the palace exit. "There isn't time to explain your Grace. Please, we have to get you back to the Chantry. Your life may be at risk!" Before she could protest the Grand Cleric had been whisked out of the study and out of the palace, leaving Eleanor and Alistair alone together.

Alistair opened his mouth to question what had just happened, but Eleanor silenced him by closing the distance between them and covering his mouth with her lips. He happily submitted to her, temporarily forgetting the strange circumstances that had given them this time together.

After a few minutes, his senses began returning to him. He used his hand at the nape of Eleanor's neck to gently pry her off him, pulling her back so he could look at her. "Wait, what if she comes back?"

Eleanor rolled her eyes. Of course he'd do this. He couldn't just accept this with open arms, he had to pussy-foot around it first and question it. "She won't, not for a while anyway," she said, quickly returning her lips to his. Her hands quickly ventured south, where they found the ties to his trousers and began undoing them.

"Whoa, love, what are you doing?" he mumbled against her lips. She was making it harder and harder to resist, but what if the Grand Cleric came back? She would murder them for sure, condemn them for all eternity.

Her hands worked their way into his trousers, cupping him and sending a rush of blood to his crotch. "Surely that's obvious, or have you forgotten what we've spent many a night – and day – doing?" she joked, moving away slightly to watch his face contort with pleasure as she began to work him. He tried to protest again, but Eleanor silenced him with a squeeze. "Don't worry Alistair, she won't be back for a few hours. I have it on good authority," she said, winking slyly.

Alistair grabbed Eleanor's wrists as if to extract her hands from his trousers. "Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded slowly, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Well then we'd better be quick," he said, wrapping her arms around his neck and picking her up by her rear. Eleanor squealed in delight as he carried her over to the desk and dumped her on the only part not covered with paperwork.

"I feel so regal," joked Eleanor. She started to laugh, but was quickly cut off by her own moan of pleasure as her dress was hiked up to her thighs and Alistair began grinding his crotch against hers.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "You can feel like a Queen later. Right now, you're mine to ruin." A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine and straight to her core.

"You know how to treat a lady, don't you?" she joked breathlessly.

"I aim to please," grinned Alistair, his hands trailing up her thighs, towards her heat. He went to tease her, only to find no resistance in his way. "I must say though," he began probing her heat with his fingers, finding her already wet and eager, "I don't see any ladies here. Ladies wear underwear, last time I checked."

"What can I say," breathed Eleanor, "I never liked being a lady." She gasped as his fingers explored her, reacquainting themselves with her, reaching places she just couldn't reach herself. Alistair continued teasing until Eleanor growled, "Honey, as much as I'm enjoying this, we don't have time for it."

He removed his hand from her and moved his trousers out of the way, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. "Sorry, I'm just used to being a gentleman," he said thrusting into her and silencing any witty retort she was about to make. They stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the familiar feeling of their joining, until eventually Eleanor wrapped her arms around Alistair's neck and pulled herself further onto him. His instincts took over then. His hands found her buttocks and used his grip to control his thrusts, pushing as deep into her as he could. He pounded into her relentlessly, neither one knowing when they would get an opportunity like this again.

Underneath them the desk shook slightly with each thrust. Alistair's pace slowed, his lips trailing along Eleanor's neck until he reached her ear. "What do you say," he said, nibbling her earlobe, "we see how much we can make the desk rattle? Play a little test of nerves?" Eleanor answered him by clenching her pelvic muscles, squeezing his manhood tightly and making him see stars.

With a growl Alistair pulled out, eliciting a moan of disappointment from Eleanor, and flipped her over. Having just enough time to brace herself, Alistair began his relentless pace again, using a hold on Eleanor's hips to bounce her off him. As predicted, the desk beneath them shook more violently, rattling loudly and making the paperwork on it fall off. The noise seemed to spur Alistair on, his pace growing faster and harder, causing the desk to rattle louder.

Each thrust reached deep inside of Eleanor, hitting the sweet spot that made her see stars and her toes curl. She clawed at the desk, trying to support her legs as they turned to jelly beneath her. She didn't know how many times she came, her vision quickly turning white with each explosion inside of her. Her entire being became a source of sensation, sparks shooting from where her body came into contact with something; the grip on her hips, the edge of the desk against her calves, the wood under her palms. She felt the grip on her hips tighten and was vaguely aware of a deep groan coming from behind her.

Slowly, Alistair stilled behind Eleanor, his grip on her relaxing. His hands played with her hips, caressing their curves lazily. Reluctantly he pulled out from her and let her get up, watching her chest hungrily as she stretched her muscles.

"I have eyes you know," she joked. She watched him lick his lips and shook her head, "We can't. She'll be back soon and we wouldn't want to give her a heart attack, now would we?" They laughed at the image of the Grand Cleric walking in on them having sex, realising it was indeed better that they not push their luck too much. "Come on, let's straighten everything up," said Eleanor, retrieving something from inside her cleavage. Alistair looked at her puzzled, so she held up the item for him to see: underwear. She smirked before putting them on and pulling down the skirt of her dress. "Looks like I'm a lady again," she quipped.

Alistair shook his head and laughed as he straightened his own clothing before turning his attention to the mass of paperwork that was now on the floor. Eleanor seemed to show little interest in helping; instead of tidying, she was bent over – tempting Alistair once again – messing with the hidden cabinet in the desk. When she stood up she was holding a bottle of Antivan brandy and two glasses. He shot her a look. "Is this really the time to be drinking dear?" he asked.

"Yes. We're simply enjoying a glass of brandy together," she replied, filling each glass and setting it down on the desk. When Alistair was finished straightening up the desk, he grabbed his glass, placed a chaste kiss on Eleanor's forehead, then lead her back to their seats. "See, we're just talking. That's not against Chantry law, is it?" she asked, sipping happily at her brandy.

Alistair sighed, resigned, and joined her, taking a gulp of his own drink. "So who did you convince to help us then?" he asked.

She seemed unsurprised by his question. Truth be told, she was surprised he hadn't asked her sooner. "Who do you think? Who would be crazy enough to do something like this? Who would see two people not being able to have sex as a crime?"

Zevran. "Ahhh, makes _perfect_ sense now."

They spent the next hour or so simply talking, enjoying each other's company and realising just how little alone time they had had lately. Eventually the Grand Cleric returned, red faced and clearly annoyed. The two Grey Wardens stood when she entered the room. "Your Grace, you're ok! Is everything alright?" asked Eleanor in her most convincing voice.

"Yes thank you. _Apparently_ the Crows were after me, but it turned out to be nothing. Incompetent fools. I think my Templars need re-training. Now, where were we?"


End file.
